


It Wasn't Supposed to Be You

by BlindAlchemist



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Legal!Stiles, M/M, butt stuff, cam whore, slut!stiles, sterek, stiles is over 18
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-12
Updated: 2014-03-12
Packaged: 2018-01-15 12:57:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1305649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlindAlchemist/pseuds/BlindAlchemist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Stiles starts working for a cam porn site, he starts to question what his interests are. And he has a few ideas on who to take out his curiosities on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I'm Not A Whore

"I'm  _not_ a whore."

That's what Stiles had to keep telling himself as he hesitated to turn the webcam on. He already had three watchers. Three people, _waiting_ for him to put on a show for their greedy eyes. He angled the camera again, checking and rechecking, making sure his face wasn't visible. If Scott knew about this, he'd never hear the end of it. Not that Scott seemed like the type to look at males on a cam site... The thought poured into Stile's head like a cold shower, and he had to shake it off before looking at the screen again, mouse hovering over the button to start his little show.

The chat window was specially formatted so that the watchers could not see each others messages. Those were for Stile's eyes only. And really, Stiles thought, it'd just be awkward to be touching himself while the viewers discussed his body among themselves. His cock twitched. He loved to be watched. He got up on his knees, stomach and hips in full view, cutting off just before reaching his groin, and turned on the cam. One viewer chimed in with a "Finally!", another with the comment that he had been waiting for this all day. Stiles had to smirk at that. The username was familiar. The man was waiting for him, specifically.

The session went as it normally did. Viewers slowly increased until he had about 12, all watching and objectifying him as he jacked off for their pleasure. He played with his hole, prodding lubed fingers into the tight, virgin space until he could fit his small vibrator inside. The feeling of it filling him up, even just that small amount, was overwhelming, and he was soon coming onto his stomach, much to the pleasure of his twelve watchers. He turned the cam off after that, but stayed on to chat a bit with the ones that stuck around. Nothing too much, just the usual flirtatious remarks of, "Did you like that?" and whatnot. Stiles really wasn't good at that sort of thing, so keeping it short and dumbed down was the only way to keep it from getting awkward. Especially when it came to the men that watched him.

Stiles was always a little curious when it came to being with a guy, but it was the unwillingness to come out to his dad, let alone his brother, that kept him from acting on his curiosity. It was also what made him self-conscious when being admired by another man. Which is exactly what was happening right now. One of his regulars was once again showering him with compliments about his body, how he stroked himself, and, most prominently, what the man wanted to do to him. It gave Stiles an odd, warm feeling in the pit of his stomach, and he soon had to excuse himself from the conversation. He quickly shut his laptop, and once again was suddenly uncomfortable with his profession again. He sat up and was met with an unpleasant shift of the vibrator, turned off, but still buried in his ass. Stiles laid back down and worked the device slowly out of him, and suddenly felt empty, almost as if it was gaping. He debated reinserting it, just to feel filled again, but his sore hole protested, and he gave up.

He made his way to the restroom, walking a bit awkwardly from the emptiness, and cleaned off his toy, as well as the come from his stomach before stepping into the shower. The hot water was a much needed feeling, and for a while he just stood there, letting his mind wander off into the dark places, where he imagined letting the men that admired him do exactly what they described. Chills went down Stiles back as he thought about a larger, stronger man groping his ass. He thought about what it would feel like to have their thicker, rougher fingers inside him, compared to his own thin, nimble digits. The feeling of emptiness was overwhelming now, and in a moment of weakness, he stepped out into the cold bathroom and took his vibrator from where it sat on the counter. Returning to the showers warmth, Stiles began feverishly working himself open like he was so used to, imagining it was another man doing the work for him. He moaned and leaned forward, pressing his cheek to the cool tile as he stretched himself. He imagined his vibrator as the other man's cock, and was soon working the small black object into his ass as far as it could go, turning it on as he pushed. The feeling was overwhelming, sending his cock into full-force, and it ached for touch. But Stiles resisted. He imagined a gruff, commanding voice telling him to wait; mocking him for his lack of self control, and it was enough to bring him straight to the edge. He obeyed the voice in his head, and imagined him saying other things, too. Telling him he wasn't a virgin anymore, that his only purpose was to warm the other mans cock with his tight ass, and a whole manner of other degradation that was on a fast track to have Stiles coming before he even had a chance to grab his cock. Soon he was imagining the man saying his name, over, and over, and then there was the sound of pounding... No. No wait, that wasn't his imagination.

That was his front door.

 


	2. Timing

Stiles scrambled out of the shower, nearly eating the tile floor on his way out, and just barely remembered to turn off the vibrator and grab a towel before running to his door. He swung it open and was met with a very sweaty werewolf nearly trampling him to the ground as he rushed inside, slamming the door behind him.

"Shit! Derek! What the--?!"

"What took you so long?" Derek snapped at him. The similarities between the commanding voice in Stiles' head, and Derek's sent shivers up the younger boy's spine.

"I-Uh. Shower." Stiles managed to stammer out. "What's going on?" Derek let out a loud sigh and leaned tiredly against the door.

"Nothing." He finally stated. "It's fine now." "It's 'fine'? You nearly beat down my door! You're sweating like a pig on free bacon day, and you look like you just ran a marathon, and it's all fine?" Without skipping a beat, Derek added, "Now." It's fine now. As if that was supposed to negate what Stiles had just said.

"Fine," Stiles admitted defeat, "I'm going to finish my shower." He stepped back into the bathroom, shutting out the older man and removing his towel. His cock was still achingly hard, but he felt like the increased heart rate it would take to get himself off would make things awkward when he did finally leave the safety of the shower. He worked the vibrator out for the second time and cleaned it in the hot water before turning up the cold to discourage his desires. When he finally had enough excruciating pain from his nether regions, he turned off the water, hid the toy in it's usual spot, and secured his towel around his waist.

He opened the door to find Derek on his laptop. He paused to look up at Stiles with eyes that could kill, and he remembered all at once that he hadn't closed out of the website. His eyes grew what Stiles was sure was the size of dinner plates, and he rushed to close it, but Derek beat him to it, closing the laptop carefully and allowing a smirk to drift across his face. "You have quite the following. Blue usernames mean they're men, right?"

"Why were you going through my computer?!" Stiles almost yelled.

"I wasn't _going through_ anything. It was up when I opened it." Derek's voice was calm and steady, and it made Stiles even more upset.

"You shouldn't have opened it! What, you think you can just stop in whenever, with no explanation and just go through my shit?!" They paused in the silence before Derek stood up and began heading for the door. His hand was gripping the handle when Stiles spoke again, much calmer now.

"Wait, Derek." The younger boy put his hand over his eyes and ran it down his face in frustration. "I'm sorry. I just-... Don't tell Scott. Don't tell anyone. Please." He watched Derek's hand drop from the handle of the door, but his eyes remained fixed at the chipped paint. "Why would I tell anyone?" He said it more like a statement than a question, but turned to face Stiles as if he still expected an answer.

"I don't know. I just-... I walked out, and you gave me that  _look_ , and I just. I panicked." Stiles flung his hands as he talked, as he often did to accent situations like this. Well, not like this. He was certain he'd never dealt with a situation quite like this before, and hoped to never do so again. But in situations of high stress, Stiles' hands were always sure to gesture and accentuate at every little detail. "I know you won't tell, but please, Derek,  _DON'T TELL._ " He plopped onto the bed and put his hands to his face again. He could feel the blood in his cheeks, and his eyes burned like he could cry from the embarrassment. What made it worse was that Derek had moved until he was right in front of him. He felt the warmth coming off of him like a sun, and looked down to see the tips of his shoes from beneath his hands. He knelt down so he was more at Stile's angle, and pulled his hands away with a gentleness that Stiles didn't think Derek really had. 

"I'm not going to tell anyone. Okay?" Derek's voice was almost a whisper, and Stiles felt the warmth in his core intensify. He looked up at the older man, locking eyes with him. His perfect, green eyes were unwavering, and it was enough to make Stiles very, very insecure. Derek was aware of this, but stayed still, hands still resting on top of the other boys, waiting in the stillness of the room. His thumb stroked thoughtlessly over Stiles' palm, and the roughness of it brought all the thoughts from the shower back in a wave. Suddenly his imagination was alive with thoughts of Derek fingering him, growling in his ear, and finally penetrating him with a cock much larger than his little toy could ever prepare him for. "Stiles, are you alright?" Derek asked, bringing him back to reality. His face was flushed and he looked back at Derek, which was decidedly a terrible idea, considering it only caused him to think about how Derek would look during an orgasm. He backed himself further onto the bed and farther away from the older man, who was kneeling before him and honestly was in a perfect position to suck him off, or maybe eat him out, or--

"Fuck!" Stiles muttered aloud. Derek was on his feet in a heartbeat. "What? What's wrong??" Stiles waited to answer. "Nothing. I'm fine." Derek shot him a look that almost spoke for itself about how his heart was beating like a jackhammer and that is most definitely not a sign of fine. He sat where Stiles had been, staring him down like the predator that he was. The thought did nothing to calm his twitching cock, which really wasn't doing a good job of hiding under the towel. Stiles adjusted his legs and cleared his throat. "I'm Uhm. Going to get dressed." He scooted off of the bed and passed Derek without even looking at him to gather up something to wear. Something to cover himself from the older man's piercing eyes, because this was Derek Hale and he was Stiles Stilinski and he was straight, and no intimidatingly attractive werewolf was going to prove that different. He bent down to gather a pair of jeans from the floor, stood up and turned right into Derek's chest. 

"Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing." Stiles stated, feeling that familiar warmth in his core. "I'm going to get changed."

"No," Derek corrected him, "you're not." Stiles looked up at him, his predatory eyes and clenched jaw proved that he wouldn't let this one go.

Stiles sat back down, sitting his clothing to the side. "Look..." He started, "I don't normally do that... The cam stuff... With guys." Derek stood in front of him, not entirely sure of where the conversation was going. "So you looked at the page, and saw them, and I'm just-"

"Embarrassed?" Derek finished the sentence perfectly, and Stiles nodded his approval at the choice of words. "But you're sitting here, and you're staring at me, and it just sort of..." Stiles stopped short. He wasn't sure if he should use the phrase "turns me on" or "scares me". To be perfectly honest the feelings seemed one and the same. Derek looked at him, still standing there, with a confused expression, as if he was trying to finish Stiles' sentence again, but couldn't figure out the word for scared and turned on. "It's just new for me." he finally said. "And it makes me a little uncomfortable." 

" _I_ make you uncomfortable?" Derek asked. Shit. Stiles eyes shot up to meet his again. "No! ...No. Not you." Derek sat down next to him and looked up at the ceiling. "Then what does?" He couldn't make this easy by having werewolf mind-reading super powers, now could he? Stiles thought to himself. He took a deep breath, opened his mouth to speak, closed it again, and evaluated what he was going to say about 3 times. 

"You turn me on and it makes me uncomfortable." The words shot out of Stiles like a cannon blast, and his eyes shot up to meet Derek's. 

"I... Turn you on?" He asked as if he didn't understand. Stiles eyes shot down to his cock, half-hard and still not well hidden by the towel. "Yes. Okay? YES. You turn me on. Can I please go change now? Please?" Derek nodded, seemingly stunned, and Stiles could feel his eyes follow him to the bathroom. He shut the door without looking back at the older man. 

"Shit." Stiles muttered under his breath as he dropped the towel to the floor. "Shit, shit, shit." Maybe Derek would just leave, he thought. Maybe he would just walk out the door, and the two would never talk about this ever again. Maybe he could walk out there and pretend that conversation didn't just happen, and he could convince Derek that he had imagined that whole thing. Yep. That was the new plan. Stiles buttoned his jeans and realized he had forgotten a shirt. He turned back to the door, placed his hand on the knob, and pressed his forehead to the door, trying to muster the courage to go back out there. He had just told one of the scariest men he knew that he was sexually attracted to him. "Good going, Stiles." He muttered, standing up straight and slowly turning the knob to face the hell he'd just unleashed.

Hell, strangely enough, came in the form of rough stubble against his nose and chin, and was actually surprisingly nice. The two of them stood there in the doorway as Derek pressed his lips roughly onto Stiles' lips, and for a moment their mouths were a rush of teeth and tongues that would have sent Stiles staggering backwards if Derek's hands hadn't been ready at his neck and waist to catch him and pull him in closer. Stiles let out a moan that seemed to fuel Derek, as he moved from Stiles' soft lips to his neck, biting softly and praising the softness of his skin, and before Stiles could process the situation, Derek was lifting him up, calloused hands kneading his sore ass and walking him back to his bed, sitting him on the edge carefully, never stopping his barrage of kisses. He moved back up to Stiles' mouth, slowing down and becoming much more tender with every passing second. His hands had moved from his ass to the younger boys hips, thumbs pressing softly against his hip bones and sending waves of euphoria through him.

When Derek finally stopped, Stiles looked down to get a view of the position the two had found themselves in. Stiles was leaning on the palms of his hands on the bed, inches from Derek, who had a knee on the bed between Stiles' legs, his other leg still on the floor. It was at that moment that Derek chose to speak, ruining the charade of sexy, aggressive alpha in exchange for sounding like a confused puppy. 

"I turn you on?" He looked at Stiles, wide-eyed and flushed. Stiles met him with a look of confusion.

"No, no not at all, the raging boner means nothing. YES you turn-. Yes." He stammered out, unable to find the strength to admit the whole shebang again. Derek met his confirmation with more kissing, more scruff on Stiles' sensitive skin, and he couldn't tell if it was sexy or uncomfortable. He noted that he should probably decide which before this went much further.

 

 


End file.
